Timeithian's Tale
by jak3combat
Summary: Nightmare Moon wasn't the hardest I've had to face. You want to hear about true war? Let me tell you of my time on Earth, an Alicorn among Humans. With what I've seen during my century there, be lucky you grew up in comfort. Rated M for death, murder, war, and alcohol.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Pony on Earth. Three words that could send a chill down the hardest Brony's spine. And yet I'm doing one of these and a Human in Equestria fanfiction. What have I done with my life? Woe is me and all that jazz and shit. On with the show!**

**Also, there will only be one chapter per era, and it will highlight a few of the events, so this will be a short story.**

Rain. First thing that my senses told me while I slowly came back to the land of consciousness. Rain, mud, and the smell of a familiar copper. And the feeling of saddlebags on either side of my flanks, probably coated in mud already.

I was on a battlefield, right after being banished from one. Faust damn you, sister.

Cracking open my eyes, I noted that it was night time and there was an occasional _crack_ coming from nearby. A scream of pain or two was heard sometimes, confirming that I was, indeed, in a war. Well, as the saying probably goes, no rest for the wicked. So help me Faust... All I really wanted to know what was making those noises.

Getting to my hooves, I slowly walked through the mud, noticing that I was in a deep ditch, probably eight hooves deep or so. The walls were occasionally held up with planks of wood, and more often than not covered in bodily fluids. It didn't take a genius to tell what's happened.

About half a minute of sloshing through the mud, I saw the first casualty. It was an odd creature, roughly resembling a diamond dog or minotaur in body, but that's where similarities pretty much ended. It didn't have fur anywhere except on the top of its head (which had a triangluar hole in the forehead), two odd ears, what looked to be a nose, and two thin lips for its mouth. Below the head was rough, muddy clothing, which told me that they didn't have fur there either. At one appendage was a strange wooden club with a metal tube fastened to one side and a few smaller bits on the other.

I picked up the club and slowly moved the parts, facinated by the way it worked. A small stick of metal with a ball on the end slid back, allowing a small, brass thing to eject from the 'barrel', and when I pushed it back I noticed a similar brass item be pushed in. So it was like a crossbow, but way more advanced. Knowing that I wouldn't die, I placed a hoof near the exit and slowly 'squeezed' what was now obviously the trigger.

A very loud _crack_ sounded as pain erupted in my hoof, a hole suddenly appearing clean through my foreleg, while something embedded itself into the wood support.

"Alright then." I muttered, doing a simple healing spell to fix my hoof, ejecting the brass and pushing another one in. Whether or not I wanted to, I might as well join the right side of this war. I quickly looked the body over for more brass, finding a five brass strip of them in a pocket. I figured that the strip kept the brass together until pushed into the crossbow by the sliding bolt, so I stored the strip into my bags and resumed my self-given quest of finding a breathing...whatever these things are.

Soon, a rapid _crack crack crack_ started up ahead, causing my ears to flick in slight irritation. A voice faintly echoed through the ditch.

"Get me that blasted belt, Chalmers!" A male shouted, causing me to move forward faster.

"It fell into the bloody mud!" 'Chalmers' shouted back. "I can't bloody well clean it off at the moment!"

"Bloody... Look for another one!"

As I neared them, I noticed that there was a belt of the brass strewn on the lap of a recent corpse, neatly folded. The being looked like it was melted, from what I could see by the face. A faint smell of garlic lingered, almost overpowering the coppery scent of blood. I grimanced and picked the belt up, assuming that's what the first voice was talking about.

"Would this work?" I called out (loud enough for them to hear it over the sound) and threw it with just enough magical strength to get it there.

"Who's that?" Chalmers replied before I started hearing a few mechanical parts moving, ending with a click and more cracking. "I know that you're not Vic, since he didn't bloody wear his gas mask."

"Whatever you do, don't panic." I said, before trudging into their sight. The _crack_ing completely stopped, as two more of the beings stared at me in shock.

"...Are the Jerries using a new type of gas or something?" Chalmers eventually spoke up, before turning back to the side of the trench. "Bugger! Keep firing!" With that he hefted up a crossbow exactly like mine and fired it off, sending a piece of brass into the mud as he reloaded. The larger tube of sorts started making the _crack_ing noise again as brass rapidly flew out of one side, landing on the lip of the ditch.

"Who are these 'Jerries'?" I asked as I stepped up to them, unable to see over the side as easily. So I reared up onto my hind legs and flared my wings out to keep myself steady. In front of us, about twenty other beings were running towards the ditch with crossbows in their grip, being mowed down by the odd, rapid fire one a few hooves away from me.

"Those blokes." Chalmers answered. "Bloody well trying to overrun our position, they are."

"Why're they doing that?" I asked, deciding to take sides with the beings next to me. I levitated the crossbow up and fired a shot, but couldn't tell if I hit anybody or not.

"We're at war with the Jerries." The first one answered. "It all started in 1914 when the Archduke of Austria was assassinated by somebody. A few alliances later and we're in the Great War, date of 1918."

"What country do you two represent?" I asked as I pushed the strip into the crossbow and put another brass thing in.

"The United Kingdom." Chalmers answered. "More commonly called British, though." He fired again and slipped a strip into his crossbow.

"What am I using, anyway?" I asked. "The closest thing I can think of would be a crossbow." The other one snorted at that.

"You're firing off a Lee-Enfield rifle." He said. "Chambered in .303 ammunition." So it was called a 'rifle'.

"What type of ammunition is this '.303' called?" I asked as I hit a Jerry in the leg, downing him.

"Bullets." He answered. "They don't fire off the casing, which I bet you knew already. Just the tips."

"And the thing you're using? I bet it's not a rifle." I questioned.

"Vickers machine gun, classified as a medium MG." He said, before holding a claw out. "Name's Nigel Macguiver. Bloke helping me is Steven Chalmers." I shook it a few times.

"Prince Timeithian." I said, causing their eyes to go wide. "I'd rather be treated as a normal being, trust me on that." I hastily added. "I did happen to go through all this mud without a complaint, after all." They still cast each other looks, but thankfully decided to drop the subject.

* * *

The three of us became a very good MG team very quickly. They were awed by my magic at first, but soon realized I was able to keep the Vickers firing even longer than what Steven could do. He didn't mind; he kept our 'arses' covered with his Lee-Enfield.

* * *

"Gasmasks on!" Chalmers suddenly yelled, pulling an odd looking helmet on. It looked like it was made of leather, had a tube at the end where his mouth would be, and two glass circles where his eyes were. I suddenly smelled garlic, before all I knew was pain.

"Dawn!" Steven shouted, using the new name I've given myself.

"Don't touch him!" Chalmers snapped as he continued firing. "Unless you want that mustard gas on your skin." I writhed in pain as the world slowly blurred together, and the last thing I heard was Steven yelling for a medic.

"Bloody hell..." I heard when I awoke. "That should've killed him." A woman spoke up from behind me.

"I'm not an expert on horses, but he's very much alive." She said. "I've never seen something shake off mustard gas and come out coherent before."

"I told you I wasn't able to die." I croaked, opening my eyes. "Could I get some water?" Chalmers handed me his canteen, and I took a long drought.

"I'm not a veteranarian, but I know that his hooves shouldn't bloody move like that..." The nurse muttered, before walking off to another patient. I got to my hooves, despite pain lancing across my back.

"What hit us? All I could smell before being in extreme pain was garlic." I questioned.

"Mustard gas." Steven grimanced. "From what we saw, that's what hit Vic before we met you." Right.

"I'm gonna need a gas mask if I'm gonna avoid something like that again..." I muttered.

"You're also gonna need a uniform, Dawn. Covering your entire body, so the gas doesn't stick to your fur and burn the ever living crap out of your skin." Chalmers added. I frowned, but nodded.

* * *

"What the hell is that?" I asked as a metal...thing came slowly trudging past, right on over the trench. It was making an awful noise as it did so, causing my ears to swivel in irritation.

"Tank." Steven said with a grin. "Designed to go over the trenches." A few more trudged after the first one. On the other side of the no mans' land, grey boxes were coming in from the Jerries' side.

"Bollocks, this is gonna get bad real fast." Chalmers muttered, sinking down a little. I simply watched as the six pounder guns (as Steven called them) fired at the Jerries' tanks.

* * *

"The war's over! We won!" An American courier yelled as he sped past on a 'motorcycle'. Steven and Chalmers slapped their hands together.

"What're you gonna do now, mate?" Chalmers asked.

"Get home to my wife." Steven replied with a sigh, before looking at both of us. "And you two?"

"Drink for a few days." The man replied, before looking at me.

"Probably go visit America." I shrugged. "Heard some good things about it, and figured why the hell not."

"You'll keep in touch?" Steven asked. I nodded and both of them wrote down addresses for me, which I pocketed. "Good luck on your journey, mate." They slowly exited the trench, and I sat in the mud for a while longer.

My horn flared a brilliant silver, and I vanished with a _pop_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reviews:**

**IronicNounAndVerbCombo: You should see the ratings I have over on FimFic for my stories. Not pretty for everything except the main MiE.**

**Picklemonman: I will!**

America was something completely new for me. I arrived in a city that was bustling with cars and probably more humans than there were ponies in Equestria. In one city!

"Is beautiful place, no?" A Russian Jew asked from next to me on the ship. We had talked a little bit about our homelands on the trip, so I knew him, if not like I knew Chalmers and Steven. "Land of new opportunity." I had helped him with his 'English' so he wouldn't be blindsided by a foreign language, and in return he taught me Russian.

"Beautiful place indeed, Boris." I smiled and got back onto all fours, wings settling down.

"You no afraid of being disc-c-crinate?" Boris stumbled, but I nodded and grinned a little.

"Discriminated." I slowly said. He was intelligent, but still learning. "And, no. I've faced worse." My throat still hurt a little from the mustard gas canisters.

"I come with you?" He asked, looking down at me.

"Depends on where we go." I said, looking out over the harbor. "I've been thinking of a place down south, myself." Aiming towards Virginia or Florida, in all honesty.

"South sound nice." Boris said. "Not too cold, good for growing food." And grazing animals, though I knew he didn't see me as one. Respected me enough to not say it.

"South it is." I nodded as the boat finally came to a stop at a pier. "Hope they accept me as a sentient being..." I muttered under my breath as we started going down to the docks.

* * *

Well... The trip through the US could've gone better. Way better. Most Americans thought I was some kind of mutated cow. The blacks, or as most white Americans called them, Negroes, and fellow immigrants were more accepting of me as the whites were.

And that's why 1925 found me working in a 'coloured' shop in Florida for $10 a week. Boris was making the same money, so discrimination was forced upon both of us. I had written Chalmers and Steven once we settled down, like I promised.

* * *

1929... That was a fucked up year. Sure, the beginning all the way up through October was nice, but then came October 29th. The day the stock market crashed.

Over the next decade, millions lost their jobs, their homes, and could barely afford an apple a day. I was rather fortunate, compared to many of the others. I had saved up my money when possible, and didn't give any to the banks through sheer paranoia. So when the local bank closed down, I was probably the richest being in town with a whopping $5,000 to my name. Boris followed in my shoes and managed to keep around $2,000.

* * *

It was... tough, to say the least. Because I wasn't a rich prick, rather a rich and generous person, I had opened my modest home to help anybody who needed to rest under a roof. Because the fact that most whites who weren't immigrants happened to be racist pricks, I erected a sign that forbade any racist people from entering my home.

I had mostly blacks take full advantage of my generosity. Some of them happened to be veterans, and we spent time between meals swapping stories of the Great War.

It sickens me that black people in this country were slaves not even seventy years ago. And women had gained the right to vote about a decade ago. I read their Bill of Rights; if all men were created equal, then why the hell did they enslave black men?

It also saddens me that women were treated as second class people, just barely ahead of the blacks. I'm ashamed to say stallions from my world are the same, and even Celestia didn't think that I was competent to rule. When I get back, if she doesn't welcome me with a good job I'll crack some heads.

It was a really tough decade for us, but with another World War looming over the horizon, I started preparing. Hell, Roosevelt offered me a position in the military, complete with full citizenship when I took a tour of DC and met him. I accepted it and went back to my home in Florida to prepare for war once again. Boris was almost too old to join, but I was able to whip him into shape. Most of the vet's kids in town did the same, once WWII began in earnest...


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviews:**

**Krulla Chief: Thanks for the review! I was actually planning on simply writing what he did, but this would make for a much better story. And as for the universe this is set in, it's MiE, but Dawn ends up in an alternate world where there are none of the humans currently in Equestria. More like a cross-over between MiE and Company of Heroes.**

"I've noticed you use 'us' and 'our' instead of them, sir."

"Yes, yes." I waved my hoof. "You would too if you were stuck on another world for a bloody century."

"Just pointing it out." At that moment, my stomach grumbled. The pony across from me grinned as I rolled my eyes and slipped out of my chair. "Want to go get a bite to eat and continue this interview at lunch?"

"Sure." I rolled my shoulders. "Where to?"

"There's a pretty well known restuarant on Mane Street and it's not extremely expensive like everything else in Canterlot."

"I'll go as a pegasus, though. After 9/11 I've learned to hate crowds." I said, and followed her out the door.

"I forgot to ask you earlier, but how did the rest of the world respond to you?"

"Unless they saw me for themselves, they thought I was a hoax." I explained after swallowing a mouthful of hay fries. "Meh, french fries are better." I muttered under my breath.

"How bad was 'World War II'? I take it you fought in it?" She questioned, levitating her notepad up. I took a second to reply, looking down at one of the numerous medals adorning my uniform.

"Very bad." I finally said.

"So, you're going with my squad?" A soldier questioned as I loaded my BAR magazines.

"Yep." I answered, inspecting one of the .30-06 bullets. "Relax, I won't be too hard on you." I said when I noticed that he was nervous.

"It's not you being with us that I'm worried about..." He muttered, staring over the ramp of the landing craft we were on. All around us were explosions, sinking boats, and metal barricades. Looking out over the side, I got to witness a landing boat get shot by coastal guns, blowing the hell out of the Sherman sitting in it and sinking both at the same time.

"Christ..." I muttered, turning back to looking at the shore, which was getting closer.

"June 6, 1944. D-Day. It featured the largest invasion force that I have ever participated in, and I was in the leading charge during the Discord War. Much against the orders of my sister, I'll let you know."

"How many 'men' participated in it?"

"We had a force of 100,000 Allied men and one Alicorn. A lot of the first few waves were completely mowed down by MG42/MG34 fire. I was knocked out when my squad hit the beach, they, sadly, didn't make it for the most part."

"Who else made it?" I could see the sadness in her eyes.

"Private First Class Steele, the other man in the squad with a BAR." I fished around in my saddlebags and pulled it out, unloaded. "I decided to keep all of my previous weapons, if you want to take photos or something."

"What's a photo?" Goddammit.

"A sketch, then."

I spent the next few minutes eating a hay burger and watching the mare across the table sketch a LMG out with her mouth. Oh, if some of my old friends could see me now, they'd ask why the hell I'm eating a shitty ass burger like this one.

And I'd reply that even the gryphons don't have a fucking burger yet. Hell, they don't have a cheese industry! That's blasphemy!

"Shit, I didn't think I would make it..." Steele coughed as I found him, a bullet having grazed his side. "You alright, sir?"

"Right now it's just Dawn." I said, looking around. Long bolts of cloth were being rolled out along the beach, and the M4 Shermans were rolling over them so they wouldn't sink into the wet sand. "And I got shot about fourty times. I'm more worried about you, though."

"It's just a flesh wound." He said, lifting his shirt up. The blood flow had already stopped, which was good. "Thinking about aquiring a tank?"

"Hell, with my rank I could aquire an entire company." I muttered, trotting over with Steele in tow. One of the Shermans stopped as I neared, and the commander popped his head out of the turret.

"Looking for a ride, sir?" He called out. I nodded at Steele.

"We both are. Lost the rest of the squad during the first wave." I answered.

"Well hop on!" He waved us over. I let Steele get on, before flapping my wings to land next to the M2. "You wouldn't mind taking the MG, would you?"

"Not at all." I said with a small grin as I strapped my BAR across my back. "Time to give the Jerries some payback for what they did."

"I find it disturbing that you talk so casually about death."

"When you're the living embodiment of death, you're kinda desensitized to this sort of thing."

"True..."

The tank column I hitched a ride with happened to be part of the 1st Armoured Division, and we got a lot of shit raining down on us. The Red Ball Express, for instance. We had to defend a road that ferried supplies from the beaches to our units from the Jerries, and we were pounded hard at times. I noted that the Sherman we hitched a ride on was, in fact, an M4 'Crocodile' Sherman. Instead of the main gun being used, we were a mobile _flammenwerfer_.

Yeah, some German was stuck in my head and I liked the ring of them.

"Burn, motherfucker!" The flamethrower operator shouted as he toasted a few more Jerries while I gunned down the ones attempting to hit us with a AT grenade.

"Hey, at least I'm not getting descriptive!" I softly exclaimed as I noticed the reporter's greenish face. "You want me to finish tomorrow?"

"That... Would be best." She shook her head a bit. "I have enough here to keep my editor occupied for a week anyway."

"What time tomorrow is best?" I asked, mentally sorting my schedule about.

"How does noon sound?" She questioned. I nodded and shook her hoof, before slipping out of my seat and walking out the door.

With a deep breath, I spread my wings and took flight towards the castle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviews:**

**Krulla Chief: Is alright. And I appreciate it.**

"It's been a while since I've seen a sky like this..." I muttered, floating in the air, simply stopping to enjoy the view. "Shame it's all fake." I sighed, knowing that the sky as it was is simply a mirage.

True beauty in nature shouldn't be messed with, and I've told Celestia that many times. Yet she deems it fit to completely _fuck_ with nature to the point that animals need to be fucking bottle-fed until they die or risk starving. And the 'weather patrols' disgust me. Pegasi may be able to manipulate the weather a bit, but she let them go _way_ overboard with their 'duties'.

Instead of only moving large storms and stuff away from civilization, they fucking 'manage' the weather for them! That's completely outrageous, but Celestia claims it's completely natural. Bull. Fucking. Shit.

Not like I'm able to do anything about it though. Ponies think that I get certain benifits because I'm an Alicorn, but I'm more like a fucking third wheel in politics. Celestia, even though I'm the most heavily decorated general of more than one nation, believes that I am still too incompetent to rule a nation.

One of these decades we'll end up in a war and she'll ask for help, only for me to deny it to her and sit on the sidelines to let her learn exactly 'how easy' it is to lead an entire military force, at the same time.

Fuck Vietnam, just fuck that country to Hell and back. With several billion metric tonnes of napalm.

"What are you doing, citizen?" A guard snapped me from my thoughts. I looked up at her to find her glaring at me.

"Looking at the view." I answered. "Thinking. That sort of thing." She snorted.

"Shouldn't you be at home? You know, _in the kitchen_?" Oh, it was one of those guards. Old fashioned nags who think they're better than stallions just because there's more mares than stallions.

"Nope." I answered with a small grin. "Don't have a wife." I enjoy messing with these types of people.

"Well then, I think you wouldn't mind following me." Her eyes narrowed. Now it's like I'm a black person in the sixties in America.

"And for what charges are you pressing against me?" I rose an eyebrow.

"Loitering around the castle." She answered, crossing her forelegs.

"The castle grounds are public property during the daytime, and loitering isn't a crime if nobody complains about it." I answered. She sneered as I said 'nobody', because I'm not a racist, self-centered pony like the others.

"I don't care." She moved to arrest me, but I simply teleported away.

"You really need to work on the guard, sister." I calmly stated as I walked into her study. She merely sighed, not even looking up from whatever paperwork she was doing.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Timeithian." She started, shuffling a few pieces of paper. "I'm not changing the guard into what those vile humans have as a military." I had already tried a few times to get her to call me by my new name, but she's more stubborn than I am with that.

"I'm talking about how they act." I said. "I was almost arrested for simply hovering by the palace." She looked up at that and raised an eyebrow. "You know, since I have nothing better to do with the ample amount of free time you insist I have."

"A stallion does not belong in politics." She sighed, rubbing her temple.

"And that reason is?" I moved a hoof. "I keep telling you that I am more than ready for mere paperwork and you don't believe me!"

"Because you are not ready." She shot back.

"No, it's because you view stallions as a piece of meat." I snarled. "You claim that you let 'your ponies' have equal rights and yet stallions are degraded to the point of being an object."

"I do no-" She began, but I cut her off instantly.

"Don't feed me with that horse shit." I scowled and turned away. "Even Luna saw through your illusion, and we both know you were the true cause of the Nightmare infecting her." With a shake of my head, I exited without another word.

"She didn't want eternal night." I muttered as I walked down the deserted hallway. "She wanted to give the stallions the key to their shackles. Being the traditionalist she is, Celestia fought with her and that ended with the wiser of the two imprisoned on the moon."

"You need to stop wandering off, sir." My personal guards stated as I rounded a corner. I merely rolled my eyes at the two of them.

One was a mare, while the other was a stallion. It was unheard of for stallions to become guards, much less one for royalty. Then I came along after being banished for a century.

"Gentle Breeze, you know I am more than capable of protecting myself." I told the mare, who nodded. The mare was against the treatment of stallions almost as much as I was.

"Doesn't mean we can't worry about you, sir." Cobalt answered. The man (because I think he is more than worthy of being called a man) was literally breaking history just by being alive. Hell, they both enjoy listening to some of my more tame stories, and are disgusted by the same things that I am.

They can't eat meat though, which is a shame. I'd love to share a few burgers with them. IF GRIFFINS MADE THEM.

I'll have to go up there discretely some time and kick start their food productions.

"Want to hear another story?" I asked the two of them as I stepped into my room.

"Sure." Cobalt hopped up onto the couch next to Breeze as I took a seat on a recliner.

"Right, what should I tell you this time..." I muttered, rubbing my chin in thought.

"How about Korea again?" Breeze offered, causing me to chuckle.

"You really like that one, don't you?" I rose an eyebrow before nodding. "Hell, why not?" With a crack of my neck, I began that tale.


End file.
